


Plain Sailing

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/F, First Time, Frottage, Music Kink, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: prompt: exhibitionism // music/sound kinkUnder the sun, Natima's crush on her Bajoran co-worker and best friend finally gets fulfilled.





	Plain Sailing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShevatheGun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShevatheGun/gifts).



> this is an au where tora naprem tells dukat to stuff it after he tries to send her and ziyal off bajor, and they end up breaking up. occurs a few months after "profit and loss".
> 
> written for the [ds9 discord kink bingo](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ds9discordkinkbingo_spring2018) challenge.

Sometimes, Natima Lang really wondered how she got into these kinds of ridiculous situations. 

This situation being hidden in her Bajoran best friend’s shoe closet on the hottest day of the Bajoran summer, hiding from said Bajoran’s ex-boyfriend, who happened to be a member of the military that was trying to hunt her down. 

It was her stupid, dumb heart that had gotten into her in this mess in the first place, with its stupid, dumb feelings. After the mess that happened up on Deep Space Nine, Natima had sent both of her students to another planet, whilst she stayed hidden on the one place they wouldn’t think to look for her - Bajor. Of course, every Cardassian on Bajor got suspicious looks and glances, so Natima kept quiet, and kept low, using her extensive list of contacts to find somewhere safe to sleep and to work.

And then she had met Tora Naprem. Tora Naprem was a ridiculously attractive friend of a friend, who happened to work in the archives, the place that Natima had been told was safe to work in, and with whom Natima was smitten. Naprem had sought her out on her first day, with fresh lunch and a Cardassian blend of tea, and they had quickly become close friends. Natima had fallen  _ hard _ , with their lunchtime debates and scholarly discussions, and later their visits to each other’s houses. Natima had spent hours playing with Naprem’s daughter Ziyal, a sweet half-Cardassian half-Bajoran girl, and hours more with Naprem and fantasizing about Naprem, wanting her attention, her laugh, her hands, her touch, wishing that Naprem would make the first move so that Natima wouldn’t have risk compromising her safety.

Their discussions had only grown more intense over the eight months Natima had worked there, and Natima was finding it incredibly difficult to tamp down her attraction. Some days, she was certain Naprem was flirting back, but she could never be sure, and therefore she spent her free time pining and daydreaming. Today had been one of their normal visits to the Tora household - it was a particularly hot day, and one of the few days off Naprem and Natima had. And, of course, everything had to go wrong - Naprem had only just remembered that Ziyal’s Cardassian father was going to pick her up for today, and it was only then Natima realized that Ziyal’s father was none other than Cardassian blow-hard and one of her worst enemies, Gul Skrain Dukat.

Ergo, why she was currently hidden in a cupboard.

“Here’s Ziyal’s things, Skrain.” Naprem was saying, handing over what sounded like a small suitcase of toys. “I did her hair yesterday, but depending on what you do this weekend, she might need it washed again-”

“I know,” Dukat’s voice was just as grating as it was the first time Natima had heard it. “Does she have a coat? It could rain-”

“It’s the middle of summer. In a heat wave.”

“Don’t look at me like that - Bajoran weather is unpredictable.”

“It’s unpredictable because Cardassian weather systems never knew what to look for.” Naprem’s voice carried just a hint of amusement, and Natima felt a jolt of jealousy. “She’ll be fine. She’s got a new jumper anyway, from Deep Space Nine-”

“Deep Space Nine?” Natima could hear Dukat frown. “Why were you up there? Don’t tell me you went to see the  _ Cardassian  _ tailor up there-”

“I go where I like, Skrain.”

“I know, but it’s  _ dangerous _ up there. Especially that tailor. I don’t like the idea of you or Ziyal going.”

“That may be so, but it’s the only place that does Cardssian clothes for her.” Naprem sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “If you want me to avoid him, how about you take Ziyal shopping? Find her some nice clothes, a new toy…”

“That’s exactly what I had planned.” Natima could almost hear the smarmy grin, and hated him even more. “Ziyal! Come now, let’s go - how do you feel about visiting Bajor VIII? I have your things - are you dressed? Where are your shoes,dear…”

It seemed to take an age for Dukat and Ziyal to leave, but soon enough Naprem was saying her goodbyes, and the front door had shut with a final click. When she was certain it was clear, Natima stuck her head out of the cupboard door, and frowned at Naprem.

“ _ Him? _ ” Natima squawked. “You pledged yourself to  _ him?! _ ”

“You slept with that sleazy Ferengi, Natima.” Naprem replied,  arching an eyebrow at her. “With those  _ teeth _ . And that bad attitude. You’re in no place to judge.”

“I- well- that was a  _ mistake- _ ”

“And so was this.” Evidently tired of the conversation, Naprem wandered to the window at the back of the small house and looked outside. “It’s a lovely day. Do you want to go for a walk?”

“I- um, alright.” Natima clambered out of the closet, nearly tripping over Naprem’s collection of shoes. “Where to? You know I can’t go close to town…”

“I know. But just out to the plains - you know, the ones on the other side of the forest.”

“I’ve never been there. Is there... anything near there? Anyone?”

“Only the birds, and the grass. And maybe some insects.”

“Naprem, don’t be facetious.”

Naprem gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Truly, there’s nothing there - it’s a couple of empty fields next to a river, and you can’t see anyone over the tall  _ jamorr  _ grass.”

“Thank you.” Natima frowned, and chewed her bottom lip. “I guess… I guess it would be alright. Is it far? I only have my work shoes…”

Half an hour later, they left the small house and headed into the forest at the back. What had started as a suggestion to walk had evolved into some hours away from the house - Naprem packed a basket full of water, books, some food and a thick blanket to sit on, to keep them occupied in the plains. Natima had switched her work shoes for a pair of light Bajoran slip-ons, but despite the weather had opted for full coverage - she wore a pair of large, round sunglasses and a headscarf, plus a longsleeved blue tunic and a loose, beige skirt beneath, so that she would not be recognized as Cardassian if anyone saw them from a distance. Naprem too had opted for some modesty - perhaps to make Natima feel less uncomfortable and out of place, she’d opted for an asymmetrical tunic-shirt, and loose walking trousers, while leaving her hair uncovered. 

With this level of modesty between them, it therefore took Natima completely by surprise when halfway through their walk, Naprem pulled off her shirt, sweeping her black, slightly damp hair off of her forehead, grumbling about the heat as she folded the shirt into the basket. Natima managed to not trip over herself at the brazen display of bronze skin, but her mind ground to a very sudden halt, shock and a very sudden attraction completely taking over her bodily functions for several moments. Her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything - the whip scars, the beauty spots, the creases of her soft, fat sides, her waist dropping into the most glorious curve of her ass, just covered by her harem bottoms; everything and anything wanted her attention, and her heart fluttered into her throat just as she tried to process what she was seeing.

“What?” Naprem was looking over her shoulder, frowning a little. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“No! I- uh- its just-” Natima could feel her face burning, and she mentally shook herself. “It’s just… Cardassians tend not to… remove clothes.”

Naprem broke into a grin. “Ever?” 

“Well- not  _ ever _ \- just- just not in  _ public _ .”

“Oh! So… you don’t take your shirt off when you go outside? Not even when it’s hot?”

“No.” Natima clutched at her shirt, a little self conscious. “Voice over body. Every Cardassian is taught that. Not that the boys listen, anyway. Give them a glimpse of shoulder and they go into fits.” 

Naprem laughed a little. “Well, that explains why you Cardassians thought Bajorans were all loose whores.”

“That’s just propaganda, though - trying to make you temptors and Cardassians pious. I’m sure none of you are loose. Or whores.”

“Would it be so bad if a few of us were?” 

“Well- I mean- No, of course not- I mean, you can do whatever you like- only that-  _ ugh. _ ” Natima covered her face with her hands. “Can we start this conversation over, please?” 

Naprem laughed again - truly, where did someone get such a _ wondrous _ laugh? - and nudged her with a curvaceous hip. “If you’d like.” she said, playfully. “We can talk about the weather. Aren’t you hot under that scarf?”

“A little. It’s light though, so it’s not too bad.” That was a bald-faced lie, and Natima knew full well that her sweat-streaked face was obvious to anyone who was looking. Naprem obviously knew this too, and with a quiet tut she reached across and pulled Natima’s headscarf down so it sat loosely around her shoulders. In these close quarters, Natima could see that beautiful skin in exquisite detail - from the soft tawny of her shoulders and arms to the light fawn of her front, how it folded and creased around her belly and the sag of her upper and lower sets of breasts, flat, thinner and smaller than her own and still tempting, how it was criss-crossed with an intricate network of scars and marks, some big and angry-looking, and some as fine as netting. Natima turned her head a little, and surreptitiously scented the inside of Naprem’s wrist - Bajoran perfume, as expected, but also a warmth, a little like fresh  _ povva  _ bread on a sunny afternoon, but more comforting, more enticing, and Natima had to hold her tongue to stop it flickering out and tasting, but she wanted- she  _ needed _ -

-she  _ really  _ needed to stop thinking about that right now.

“There,” Naprem said, fussing with the light fabric a little before stepping back, oblivious to  Natima’s discomfort. “Keep it down, so you won’t overheat. No-one’s here, and once we hit the plains no-one will see you anyway.”

“I-” Natima put a hand on her scarf, self-conscious and feeling awfully exposed without the scarf and without nearness of Naprem, but changed her mind and slowly lowered it. “Okay.”

“Good.” Naprem beamed, and Natima felt full of sunlight and warmth. “Come on, let’s get to the plains before it gets cold.”

True to Naprem’s word, they didn’t encounter anyone as they reached the end of the forest path and crossed into the plains. These were markedly different from the Cardassian plains - where back home they were cracked dirt and wiry grass bushels, here the ground beneath them was covered in tall, yellow  _ jamorr  _ grass, reaching high above Natima’s head. The grass had been cut short in places in a kind of pathway, but they did not stay on it for long - after a few moments of walking, Naprem took her hand with a cheeky smile, and pulled her off the path into the grass. Had Naprem not been holding her hand, Natima was certain she would have gotten lost, and so held onto it for dear life as Naprem led her through the tall foliage. After five minutes or so of walking, they walked into an open clearing, where the  _ jamorr  _ grass had not been cut, but bent backwards and down to form a little cubby hole, half covered in shade. With a pleased hum, Naprem lay down the blanket she was holding, and set down the basket.

“I come here when I need some time to myself.” Naprem said, smiling a little. “Sometimes I take Ziyal here too. It’s quiet.”

“It’s lovely.” Natima sat down on the shady side of the blanket, fanning herself with her hand. “I expected it to be directly in the sun.”

“No - we’re close enough to the forest for the trees to cast shadow.” Naprem stopped from where she was unpacking the books, and looked at Natima, a little concerned. “You still a little hot, Natima?”

“Only a little.”

“Well, I’m  _ sweltering  _ \- I can’t see how you’re still wearing your tunic. That’s one of your Kardasi ones, right?”

“Yes.” Natima plucked at the collar. “Perhaps I should’ve worn something lighter.”

“I could’ve lent you something- well, I guess it’s too late for that now.” She dug around in her bag, until she found a bottle of water, and passed it across. “Here - this should help.”

The water did help a little, but not much - as they both settled down to read, Natima was highly aware that even in the shade, the sun was beating down on them. Naprem looked remarkably cool without her shirt on, and Natima could not help feel envy and desire rise up inside her at the sight of how at ease Naprem was with her nudity. She tried to focus on her book, but with sweat trickling down her scales, and the sun getting warmer by the minute, she gave up after just a few pages, and dropped the book on the blanket.

“I think I might take this off…” Natima murmured, to Naprem’s curious look. Naprem nodded encouragingly, and watched as she reached up and fiddled with the first clasp of her tunic. Just her luck, it was a Cardassian puzzle clasp, unsuited for slippery, sweaty fingers, and Natima cursed as she struggled with it, cursed the sun and the sky and the tunic and her fingers-

“Here, let me help…” Putting her book down, Naprem shifted a little closer, and deftly undid the puzzle clasps on her tunic, the ridges on her nose deepening into a frown as she focused on her work. The warm breeze hit Natima’s overheated scales almost as soon as Naprem opened up the front, and Natima curled up on instinct, chittering a little at the sudden temperature change. Naprem made a soothing sound, stroking her scales gently, almost tenderly until she uncurled enough to let Naprem peel off her working shirt to expose the expanse of silver-grey scale to the air. Although the air felt a lot better on her skin than the stifling tunic, she did not uncurl fully - she was more than a little self-conscious, especially around Naprem. Naprem was all woman, everything she had wished to be - curvaceous, soft, chubby, with child-bearing hips and a rounded belly. In comparison, Natima was a stocky waif, all bones and shoulders and jutting scales, thin from a year living on stress, coffee and shitty replicated food. But Naprem didn’t seem to mind, instead tossing her work shirt onto the bag and running a reverent hand across the scales of her shoulders.

“They’re so smooth,” she murmured, her hand warm and comforting. “I mean- this is kind of awkward, I’m just feeling you up here-”

“No, no, it’s ok.” Natima pressed her hand against Naprem’s to stop her from removing it. “I like that.”

Naprem laughed, and Natima could feel her scales flush harder - really, she could listen to that sound on repeat for the rest of her life and it would never be enough. Naprem shuffled closer, and shifted so that both her hands were free to explore the expanse of scale, exploring and feeling every nook and cranny, from the crease under her breast to the peak of her pebbled  _ tolv _ . As she worked, Natima could hear her hum, a small little ditty but one that made heat pool in the dip of her pelvis, that made her want. It was quiet, as if it was an unconscious sound, but Natima could not help but hang on to every word, to desire to feel that hum, feel its sound vibrate through every part of her body. By the time Naprem had explored every part of her chest, Natima couldn’t stop the aroused chittering that she was making, which made Naprem laugh that absolutely  _ glorious _ laugh again.

“That sound,” Naprem smiled, soft and warm. “That  _ chittering _ . I like it.”

“I liked your humming.” Natima replied. “It was lovely.”

To Natima’s surprise, Naprem looked surprised, then blushed a horrific red and hid her face in her hands. “Oh  _ Prophets, _ ” she moaned. “I didn’t do that, did I?”

“It wasn’t bad! It was really nice, and soothing, and-”  _ And really arousing _ , but Natima shoved the end of that sentence into the nether regions of her mind.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so horribly self conscious about singing- did you know I trained to be an opera singer?”

“No.”

“I did, when  _ d’jarr _ was still enforced- my mother used to teach me, since we were  _ ih’valla _ .”

“But you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I  _ liked _ it, I just… I didn’t like that I was  _ supposed  _ to like it. And I didn’t like performing, either. I was interested in politics, and history, and anthropology.” 

“Oh, I understand that.” Natima laughed. “I can’t sing at  _ all _ . But you were good. I’d love to hear more- I mean, if it’s something you’re comfortable with, that is.”

Naprem looked away, and for one horrible moment Natima feared she had offended her closest friend. She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could even draw breath, Naprem started singing quietly.

“ _ Ah’kena veyal hanyu, il ja’lat veyal’ah soraya neryshu… _ ”

If Naprem’s hum was good, her singing voice was  _ so _ much better. Natima lay back, and simply let the voice wash over her like a welcoming summer tide, warm and heavy and oh so  _ lovely.  _ Natima did not understand enough Bajoran to figure out what the song was about, but it was good and it was beautiful, and Natima’s rich, quiet voice sang at just the right pitch to make her bones quake. Perhaps it was the rampaging hormones talking, but she had never heard something so sensual, so smooth, so  _ inviting… _ she could feel herself sinking, and she allowed herself to lie properly on the floor, warm and pliant and fully enjoying the verse. Her eyes fell closed, and focused entirely on the song, its cadence and rhyme, feeling the words as a deep, growing heat, and by the time Naprem had finished, Natima’s desire was a clawing beast in her belly, and she felt she had to do  _ something _ ,  _ anything _ , she needed to touch, to clasp-

“Naprem?” Natima asked, cracking one eye open.

“Yes?” 

“Come here…” Slowly, Naprem sank onto the blanket, watching Natima with a curious, almost nervous expression. Natima pulled her closer, so they lay face to face, breaths intermingling, eyes bright and watching each other. Slowly, Natima closed her eyes again, and nuzzled their noses, kissing in the Cardassian fashion, pressing her nose in every nook and cranny, scenting the sweet tawny skin. She rubbed her nose against Naprem’s nose ridges, the closest thing to a  _ chufa _ , and felt her breath stuttered, a small sound that went straight to her nethers. She moved her hands along and around Naprem’s soft belly, but it wasn’t enough, she wanted to be closer, to be warmer. Perhaps a Bajoran kiss, on the mouth? Natima had never kissed like that, and had only looked it up online last week after having one too many fantasies about it, but it couldn’t be too difficult, if she just tilted her head…

Naprem’s lips were cushion-soft, and felt like heaven on Natima’s cool skin. Cardassians did not have many nerve endings in their lips, but Naprem’s reaction made up for any muted sensation - she moaned and hummed in pleasure, pressing in closer, her arms wrapping around Natima’s back to pull her flush. Kissing like this was new, but Natima was a quick study, and followed Naprem’s lead, pressing and turning, opening her mouth when prompted, and being rewarded by Naprem’s tongue slipping in. And -  _ oh!  _ \- Natima had never felt anything like it, but enjoyed it immensly, her mouth filled with glorious pressure and her  _ so’c  _ working overtime to process Naprem’s warm, comforting scent taste. Her hands carded through Naprem’s curly dark hair, as fine and as soft as Natima had dreamed it would be, and she could feel Naprem pulling apart Natima’s own intricate hairstyle, feeling her mid-length hair swing free just as they parted for air.

“I thought Cardassians didn’t kiss with their mouths?” Naprem asked, panting slightly.

“We don’t. That was my first time.” Natima laughed, breathless and exhilirated. “I like it. Kiss me again?”

Naprem grinned, and leaned forward, but before they could re-engage in some  _ very  _ nice kissing,  her face suddenly scrunched into an unreadable expression. She rolled away, and Natima could only watch with some amusement as she sneezed once, twice, then several times more. Natima counted six sneezes before Naprem stopped, sniffling a little.

“Allergies?” Natima asked, as Naprem rolled back to face her, expression peluntant.

“No, it’s just-” Naprem sneezed again. “ _ Ugh.  _ It’s just when I get…  _ aroused,  _ my ridges flare. And that makes me sneeze.”

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ ” Natima’s eyes widened in amazement. “I didn’t know that happened. It’s adorable.”

Naprem covered her face with one arm. “Don’t tease me, Natima. You really didn’t know?”

“You’re my first Bajoran partner, so…”

“Oh!” Naprem lifted her arm, and gave a pleased grin. “You’re good for a beginner.”

“...thanks?” Now Natima felt the urge to cover her face. Seeing her shy expression, Naprem laughed, and leaned in close.

“May I kiss you?” she asked, ever so politely. “I promise not to sneeze in your face.”

Natima beat her to it, and kissed her before she had even finished her sentence. They kissed, and moved, and rubbed, their naked upper halves slicked with sweat and desire, and their legs tangled in a mess of clothes. Needing to be touched, Natima half-climbed on her to press as much of herself to Naprem’s body as was possible, straddling one of Naprem’s soft, plush thighs. Naprem quickly got the message, and lifted her knee up under Natima’s skirt, to rub against her wet undergarments and her cloaca, which was getting very interested in the goings-on. Natima chittered with desire as Naprem’s hands dropped from her side to her clothed arse, and groaned as she squeezed it, encouraging her to rut against her leg. Naprem’s thick thigh was  _ heaven  _ against Natima’s wet genital slit, and she couldn’t stifle her moans as she rubbed and rutted against Naprem’s thigh, teasing and cajoling her  _ vit _ until she could tolerate it no more and it everted in a gush of slick fluid.

“Naprem-” Natima gasped, rutting frantically now. “Naprem, I need-”

“Take off your skirt,  _ ja’lat _ ,” Naprem murmured. “And your pants - let me see you-”

Natima rolled off, and pulled down her skirt and pants in one, without any of her previous inhibitions. Naprem pull off her harem bottoms and thong too - with some amusement, Natima noted the big wet patch on the knee of Naprem’s harem bottoms, where she had everted. They shared another kiss, and another, and then Naprem encouraged her to straddle her thigh again, this time with her arse facing Naprem. It was unfortunate that Natima couldn’t see Naprem’s face this way, but now Naprem’s thick thigh could press right into her  _ chuva  _ and could easily surround all of her everted  _ vit.  _ And it wasn’t like Naprem was passive in all this - almost as soon as Natima was settled, Naprem had her hands on her arse, pushing and squeezing, encouraging here to move and thrust against her thigh. 

The air was filled with aroused chittering and half-broken moans, as Natima rode Naprem’s thigh, pleasure jittering and coursing up her spine and through her veins. She grounded herself by gripping onto Naprem’s knee and using it for more purchase. Her  _ ajan  _ steadily leaked fluid as she rutted, pulsing and wet, whilst she used the fluid as lubricant for her  _ vit,  _ rutting with utter abandon on the soft flesh. Naprem’s hands squeezed and pushed, kneading and encouraging, until she reached the lower half, There, she positioned her hands so that every time Natima rocked backwards, her thumbs would slide into Natima’s weeping  _ ajan _ , allowing Natima to be fucked as she rutted. Natima could not stop the high keen as she felt Naprem’s thumbs enter her for the first time, and she pushed back, her movements ever more unsteady and desperate as she approached her peak.

“Naprem-” Natima moaned, so close and so desperate. “Naprem, I’m going to-”

“ _ Sil _ ,  _ lym’aka paqu’akar eyem, Natima, jalda- _ ”

Naprem moaning and writhing in her melodic native tongue was all Natima needed to hear, and she came hard, breath catching and mouth open in a silent gasp. She shuddered and jerked, her hips erratically moving, her  _ vit  _ spasming against Naprem’s leg. She felt her  _ ajan  _ give a warm gush of fluid, and smiled a little, working her hips in it as she came down from her high. When enough feeling had returned to her legs, she rolled off of Naprem, and settled by her side, pressing kisses to her stomach, up and over both sets of flat, sagged breasts, nipping each nipple and, before pressing a deep, lingering kiss to Naprem’s mouth.

“Let me please you,” she murmured. “Teach me how, I want to learn-”

Naprem kissed her silent, humming with desire against Natima’s lips. They kissed for a minute or so, before Naprem tugged Natima back on top of her, settling her between her parted legs. Natima could taste-scent her desire even with her head above waistline, and she did not have long until she could approach it - Naprem used her hands to pull and push Natima where she wanted her to go. First, the neck - Natima pressed a number of nipping kisses, humming as Naprem grasped and squirmed. Then, the chest, where Natima pressed loving kisses to all of her breasts, pebbling each of the four nipples, before being pushed down further to kiss and suck lovebites into Naprem’s soft belly.

By the time Natima reached Naprem’s heat, Naprem was writhing and whimpering, desperate for touch. Natima pressed kisses around the outside of her parts, marvelling at how beautiful her genitalia was, tanned and ridged and open like a many petaled flower. It glistened with sweet fluid, and the taste-scent was so overpowering and enticing that Natima could not help but press in and swipe her tongue up the soft slit. Naprem groaned low, a sound that went straight into Natima’s bones.

“Natima,” she panted, as Natima began eating her out properly. “Natima,  _ te’men _ , use your fingers, find my  _ emital _ , I won’t last long-”

Natima did as she was asked, and pressed her fingers inside her glistening space, first one, then two, then three, all the while licking and suckling on Naprem’s genital ridges and  _ orital _ . Naprem fucked herself on those fingers, squirming and thrusting, trying to find the deepest pleasure. Moving and rubbing her fingers against the inside of Naprem’s warmth, Natima tried to find the  _ emital _ , searching, searching, until she felt the small, foam-like button, which made Naprem keen and buck, attempting to hit it again. Natima began thrusting her fingers again, ensuring that she hit the  _ emital  _ again and again, driving Naprem wild with desire. Her voice rose and rose, moaning and nearly crying, until with one final, desperate thrust, Naprem jerked and squirted all over Natima’s face and hand, shuddering and shaking, babbling in Bajoran and tears running down her face.

Gently now, Natima removed her hand and licked the sweet fluid from it, and tidied her face somewhat. Naprem watched with some satiated amusement, before reaching behind and fishing a wet wipe from her bag and handing it over. Once Natima had cleaned herself up somewhat, she settled back at Naprem’s side, warm and happy.

“Why did it take us so long to get to this point, Natima?” Naprem asked, once she’d gotten her breath back. “I want us to have done this  _ ages  _ ago.”

“Probably because I had no idea how Bajorans worked.” Natima laughed. “I only figured out you were flirting a few weeks ago.”

“Prophets, was I  _ that  _ unobvious?”

“More that I was oblivious.”

Naprem laughed, and Natima basked in the sound. “Perhaps it was both. But I want to do this again. Can we?”

_ Ca I have the best sex of my life again? _ Natima smiled, and pressed a kiss to Naprem’s cheek.

“Of course.”


End file.
